


Maybe Monday, Maybe Someday

by lost_spook



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awesome Faith Lehane, F/M, Women Being Awesome, shipswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith and Wesley find themselves temporarily in a different dimension...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Monday, Maybe Someday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



> Post-series, imagining an AU where Wesley wound up back in Sunnydale, helping with the Slayers, rather than joining Wolfram & Hart - and allowing me to play with the dynamic they developed over the series.
> 
> With thanks to dbskyler for the beta and US-pick - any remaining errors are entirely mine.

***

“Don’t move,” Wesley says, as he throws the knife. Faith is instantly still. She doesn’t flinch, though the weapon whips past her face so closely she can feel its passage through the air. The creature gives a cut-off cry as the blade strikes it in the throat. It falls with a thud, hitting the mud and stone.

Faith turns and gives Wesley a brief grin. “Missed me.” 

Then she surveys the fallen body, crouching down to take a closer look: four arms, lumpy blue skin, a definite leather-and-mailcoat motif in the outfit, and a series of horns protruding from the head. And teeth, lots of pointy teeth. She rubs her arm, reminded of the bite, and then reaches out to retrieve the knife, pulling a face as she tugs it out of the thing’s throat. It’s covered in yellow gunge, more like pus than blood. 

“Nice,” she says. “What are these freaks?”

Wesley leans back against the wall. “No idea.”

“Hey, I’m disappointed. Thought you knew them all.”

He gives a short smile. “Wrong dimension. What about Repton?”

They’re standing in an alleyway. God, thinks Faith, why is it always some stinking alleyway? It hadn’t been appealing, even before they’d littered the place with demon corpses. She looks upwards and across at the nearest building, indicating it with a nod. “Saw three of them chase the creep in there.”

“We’d better go in after. If you’re up to it,” says Wesley, glancing briefly towards her arm, and that’s all the concern he shows for her injury. “We need him, unfortunately – or we need that phone of his.”

Faith nods, and sets off towards it. “Yeah. Our ticket home, right?”

“Yes,” says Wesley, falling into step beside her. She passes the knife back to him without waiting for him to ask. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not stay here. I’ve seen worse, but that’s not saying much.”

Faith shakes her hair out of her face as they reach the nearest door. “You’re telling me. How come it’s always crap like this, never bluebirds and rainbows?”

“Not very us,” returns Wesley as they pause close together by the entrance, checking for any more of the demons. “Anyway, if there were, we’d know we’d been trapped inside a Disney film.”

“Yeah. Talk about fates worse than death.”

“It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

They exchange a grin, and then Faith leads the way into what turns out to be a warehouse of some kind. She decides she doesn’t want to know what they store in here. Demon dimensions. Always better not to ask.

Repton is there – or most of him is. Wesley grimaces at the sight, but moves towards where the man is lying. Faith swings around and checks behind the door. Then she stalks the space, listening and watching for any more of the creatures. They took out at least seven back there in the alley, she thinks, and she’s sure that was all of them, but she can’t be too careful, not if she doesn’t want to wind up dead. And on the plus side, Wesley’s the one who gets the mutilated dead body this time, not her. She’s not squeamish, she’s got no right to be – but she is still sick inside at the way the bodies keep mounting up.

“The phone’s here,” says Wesley, reaching for the cell phone and screwing up his face as he wipes it on a relatively clean piece of Repton’s jacket.

Faith walks over to him, her stance deliberately careless; stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“And a business card,” her Watcher continues, and then turns and holds it up to her.

She takes it and flips it over, while he continues to examine the phone. “Don’t tell me – it’s locked? Dead battery?”

“No, I think we’re in luck,” says Wesley. “Just give me a moment. His inbox is pretty full, too – looks as though he had a date tonight he won’t be keeping.”

“Lucky for her, then. Or him.” Faith turns the card over again. There’s always someone willing to sell anything, isn’t there? She’s not even surprised. She nearly says something about it, that it’s more in Angel’s line than theirs, but remembers in time not to go there.

It’s why they’re here in yet another demon dimension – this Repton guy found an incantation that conjured up a portal and then started up a business sending unwanted people through it. Rich relatives, obnoxious bosses, that kind of thing. Exclusive clientele, plenty of cash and tidy disappearances on request. Everybody’s happy. Except for the vanished – and the people or demons in this dimension, if they didn’t want visitors. And Slayers and Watchers, of course. Or ex-Slayers and Watchers, whatever the hell it is she and Wesley are.

“Faith –”

Wesley’s warning comes a second after she’s already swung around, her senses picking up the demon’s approach without interrupting her conscious thoughts – the slight sound of steps behind her, small vibrations on the floorboards, a new scent in the room. She lands the first punch to its head before the creature lunges at her. She follows it up with a well-aimed kick to its midriff. It’s thrown back, but it’s picking itself up, coming back for more. “The portal, Wes! Now would be good.”

“Hang on,” he says, still crouching down by the body, fiddling with the phone. “It’s not all that clear.”

Faith spins, getting speed behind another kick that sends the thing flying. “Wesley!”

Wesley looks up from the phone. “Yes, well, I’m sorry, but archaic Latin in text speak… I must have skipped that class.”

“Hey, I’ve got a date tonight, too – and not with these guys!” Faith punches the creature again, this time in the throat, sending it flying into a heap of crates and barrels. She backs towards Wesley.

“A date?”

Faith smiles to herself, though she keeps her eyes on where the demon landed. It’s not moved, but that isn’t enough, is it? She stays in fighting stance, fists balled. “Sure. Couch. TV. Popcorn. Been promising myself it a while.”

She reaches Wesley then, and stands against him – ready to fight again, as he finally reads out the incantation from the phone. She pulls her knife out, readies herself for when the demon comes at her, but it looks like she’s done it more damage than she thought. She grimaces to herself. She hates that.

“Faith.”

He’s holding out a pair of handcuffs, and behind him, the portal’s growing – a small circle of light that’ll take them away, soon. Home, if he’s got it right, the hell knows where, if he hasn’t. The hell part being literal way too often.

Faith raises an eyebrow at the cuffs. “Wes –”

“Not now,” he says although he’s trying not to smile. “Come on. Otherwise we could end up anywhere once we go through – flung in opposite directions. We could land in different continents if we’re not careful. Although, really, we should be inside something – this might merely mean we wind up in separate locations, minus an arm each.”

“Hey, we did okay on the way in.”

“I know, but that wasn’t planned, and we may have been lucky – or maybe Repton knows more than I gave him credit for. But let’s not take any more chances than we have to.” He fastens one cuff round his wrist and holds it out towards her.

Faith takes it with a smirk. “Kinky, Wes.”

“Actually, there’s a surprisingly dull explanation for – never mind,” he says, as she does as she’s told. She doesn’t like the cuffs, but she tries not to think about that, not to think about captivity and prison and the different shapes those things come in. She values her freedom, now but she knows it’s not what she deserves. “Ready?” Wesley asks, breaking into her thoughts.

Faith nods. “Sure. You were joking about the arm, right?”

“No,” says Wesley as they jump through the portal, light swallowing them. They hang onto each other tightly. Faith thinks about making some joke of her own, about being attached to her limbs, but it’s over already, and suddenly they’re lying in sand, and blinking in the sunshine.

She gives a short laugh in relief, and holds up the hand that’s linked to his. “Together and in one piece, that’s a plus, huh?”

“Yes, but where…?” Wesley sits up, though he’s careful of her. “Damn. I knew something wasn’t quite right. No part of The Thanatos Chronicle was ever intended to be condensed into a text message.”

Faith shrugs. “Hey, there’s sunshine. No demons. Kind of peaceful.”

She looks around. There’s sand and sky, but it’s not exactly the right shade of blue, though it makes her head hurt to try and pinpoint what’s wrong about it. There’s no sea visible, only sand and sand dunes, stretching on and on. She puts her free hand up to shade her eyes.

“No bluebirds, either,” he says while frowning at the phone.

“So, what went wrong?”

“I think the last part wasn’t a word. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was an emoticon.”

“You what?”

“A smiley.”

“God, was he a creep, or what?”

Wes laughs. She likes that; she leans back and smiles into the distance. He’s turned so grim and serious these days, and there are times she doesn’t know which of them can be more callous – or put up a better front of pretending to be, whatever the truth is. She likes it when traces of the old Wes resurface. He’s changed so much, it makes it all the funnier when it shows through.

She lifts her hand again, getting his attention as she tugs at the cuffs. “Key, Wes? Not that I’m complaining, but –”

He searches, one-handed, still holding the phone, then pulls it out of his jacket pocket and throws it across.

“Boring story, huh?” She raises an eyebrow again at him, as she releases them both. “Shame.”

“Yes. How’s your arm?”

Faith turns away. “Only a scratch. No need to make a fuss.”

“A scratch?”

“A bite, then,” she tells him. 

He frowns and starts rolling up her sleeve. She thinks she’s going to get a lecture on demon secretion, venom, parasites, evil spawn, all that crap, but he merely nods, and lets go again. “Doesn’t look too bad.”

Faith stands. She thinks maybe there is sea, only away in the distance. If it can be called sea here, or if it’s even water of any kind. It’s really _not_ their world, though. There’s a weird greenish tint to the blue of the sky, and more than that, it’s a scent in the air, the alien patterns of sound and silence that she hears. And it’s not only bluebirds that aren’t around – there aren’t any birds. She wonders if there’s any life at all, apart from the two of them. 

“Sweet. If you can’t get that thing to work, least it’s here and not back there.” She sits down again, leaning towards him. “Bound to be something for a Slayer to do – and there’s plenty of us out there in the real world these days.”

“No, no, I’m sure I’ve got it now,” says Wesley absently. His attention’s on the phone and its message, not her.

Faith stares ahead again, looking hard at the horizon, letting her vision blur. “Right.” Plenty of Slayers, but not plenty of Watchers, after all.

They’re the only living beings in sight, sitting side by side in the sand dunes. She glances across at him, hiding the look behind her loose hair, but he’s making notes now, transcribing the message properly into a tiny notebook, the old-fashioned way. There might not be rainbows and bluebirds, but it’s quiet enough. She could reach out to him, if she wanted. She’s amused now, because a couple of years ago or so, she’d never have thought that would be a temptation.

Faith smiles at the thought, a small, wry smile. No, not if she wanted. If that was all, she’d do it, but she makes herself live within boundaries now, and that’s one of them. It’s not about him being her Watcher, although she bets the Council had some dusty old rules about that kind of thing, but it’s Wesley. She’s touched him before. She’s tortured him. She can’t make that right or take it back. Doesn’t make it better that he kind of sent her to hell and back that one time, either. Like so many other things, they both have to deal. It’s how it is.

What they’ve got between them now – it’s important. It’s the constant in her messed-up life. He’s her Watcher, after all, despite or because of everything, and they make it work together. But she doesn’t know how much she’s just a weapon to him – a weapon he refines, sharpens and uses each day. And that’s okay with her. It wouldn’t do for Buffy, but it works for her, and for Wes. 

Besides, he’s known her too long, known the worst of her. He might think it’s a game she’s playing if she tries to make a move, and she doesn’t want to be despised again. He’s spat at her before, figuratively, and for real. She doesn’t think that’s what he really thinks of her, not now, not anymore, but she can’t be sure. She doesn’t want to be, if it is. What they have is a strength between them, but sometimes it feels like a fragile thing – and in Faith’s world, fragile things break way too easily.

She closes her eyes. It’s only another one of those things; no point in letting her mind go there. And, God, he’s such a mix of things. She never knows if she’ll get the Wesley who still thinks all the answers can be found in a book, or the one who’ll shoot first and ask questions later – or which one she prefers.

“Faith.”

She opens her eyes.

“Is there something… moving behind me?”

Faith’s on her feet already. There _is_ something emerging out of the sand – it looks like a huge worm, only it’s got a mouth at the front, or a circular opening, and it’s all teeth. Wicked sharp teeth. “Yeah,” she says, pulling out her knife. “But you don’t want to know, trust me.”

“I think it’s got tentacles,” Wesley says, and he’s careful not to move. “Faith –”

She waits: watching it, all her senses alert. Then she lunges, diving past Wesley, thrusting the knife into the creature, and on, upwards. It goes in further than she bargained for, and she’s stuck there, arm-deep in a screeching and wriggling monster. She forces the blade in deeper, twists it around, and the worm finally lies still, falling on top of her, winding her.

 _Crap_. She struggles to recover her breath, and get free. First her hand… She grits her teeth and pulls it out, dripping with the thing’s blood, and then Wesley is suddenly beside her. He helps her out from under its weight and back onto her feet.

“Nice work,” he says. “Thanks.”

Faith looks down at her arm, and pulls a face. “Should have let it eat you.”

“I’d go so far as to say that’s definitely _not_ a bluebird,” Wesley returns, wrinkling his nose at the stench.

She gives a short grin and bends down, using the sand to clean her hands as best as she can. “You ready with that thing? Don’t think I want to wait around to see if it’s got any friends.”

Wesley nods, and pulls out the cell phone again.

“And, Wes – get it right this time, okay?”

Faith watches him and then turns her head back to the expanse of sand that surrounds them. She’s not sure there is any water now she looks again. Funny it’s not hotter than it is, she thinks. And then she looks back at Wesley, and decides that there is one move she can make that won’t break anything. She shakes back her hair, and flashes him a smile. “Hey. Wes. When I said I had a date –”

“Mm?” says Wesley, and then looks over at her. “Yes. TV, sofa, yes? And texting is an abomination – literally, in this case.”

“Yeah, right. And it’s been a weird day, so, you know.” She shrugs. “Couch is big enough for two. Bad movie, popcorn – no demons. If you want.”

Wesley holds up the handcuffs. Faith rolls her eyes, but takes them and fastens one end around her wrist again. 

“This is getting to be a thing with you. You ought to see somebody about it.”

“What, only about this?” he returns, and laughs again. “Popcorn, did you say?”

“Yeah.” 

“Why not?”

Faith smiles. “’Kay. It’s a date, then – if you can get this portal to work.”

“I’m sure I can –” He hesitates, and turns around, giving her a hard look.

Oh, crap, she thinks, she said date. She stares back at him. “What?”

Wesley says nothing as he snaps his side of the cuffs in place, but he doesn’t let go of her hand, and she can’t help holding her breath, even if it’s likely only another monster creeping up on them – and then he kisses her. And it’s typical of his contradictions, she thinks – he’s kissing her without any warning, and there’s the cuffs, but then he draws back, awkward and apologetic, as if he’s still the clueless guy who turned up in Sunnydale way back when.

There’s a silence, a frozen moment that follows, so Faith covers it. “You’re taking advantage of me while you’ve got me chained up, huh?”

“Best time for it,” says Wesley and then he hesitates. “I thought – I mean – Faith. Did you mind –?”

“Hell, _no_ ,” she says and grabs at him with her free hand, pulling him down to do it again, only her way this time. Her way’s better, but that goes without saying.

When she draws away, she tugs his jacket straight, and pulls a rueful face at the gunge she’s got over him.

“I wouldn’t worry,” says Wes, following her gaze. “It already had dried demon blood on it.”

She grins again; she can’t quite keep it back. It’s plenty of things, but it’s also like a hurdle she was never going to get over. Now she has, and she’s light-headed. “There a rule about this? Bet you there is.”

“A rule?” Wesley looks at her. 

Faith laughs. “Us. Watchers and Slayers. A big no-no, right?”

“Not as such,” he says, with a touch of his old pedantry. “It’s generally frowned upon, but I don’t think there was ever a rule.”

“Frowned upon, huh?” she says. “One reason to be glad they’re gone, then.”

Wesley has the cell phone in his hand again – they still need to get out of here. “True. Although Giles can do a fair bit of frowning on things all by himself.”

“Tell me about it.”

They exchange a look. They’re thinking of themselves – and of Buffy and Giles – and how they seem to have ended up being the Dark Side of the Slayer Force, and they can’t help grinning at each other again. Faith laughs out loud.

“Well,” says Wesley, “we’d better leave before anything else mistakes us for lunch.”

Faith swings around, checks that everything’s clear. “Sure. I thought it was okay, but man-eating sandworms are gonna be a drag.”

Wesley reads out the incantation again, and another portal opens, stirring up the sand around them so that it gets into her eyes and hair. Then they’re through, and standing in another alleyway in the rain and the dark, hanging onto one another. 

She doesn’t need to ask if they’re home this time. She can smell it. And there are street lights overhead, and somewhere behind them she hears a car go past. Back to normality – as far as anything’s ever normal for them.

Then Faith looks up at him as he’s fishing out the key again to release them both. “Wes. Back there –”

He removes the cuffs, his movements awkward. “Yes. Sorry about that.”

“What?” She can’t help her reaction; she freezes up inside. He despises her, or this is only another game or test, or whatever the hell it was this time.

“About the handcuffs,” he adds, watching her with a slight frown. “ _Faith_.”

“Yeah, of course. You didn’t think I was about to go all flaky on you?” 

He laughs, then, but shoots her another look. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She grins back quickly, stuffs her hands in her pockets. “Yeah. Right.” She breathes out again, although she’s trying not to think too hard. If she did, she might have to admit that she’s scared, and that’s not a thing she does, not more than once a year. She’s got her Watcher now, and in more ways than one – and that means she has something to lose if this gets screwed up like everything else. But then, she’s his Slayer, and he hasn’t anybody much, either. Maybe it’ll work, impossible as it is, because it’s got to be against all the odds that they’re standing here now, being the people they’ve become already. If they can do that, they can do anything, right?

“And,” Wesley says, smiling back, “you said something about popcorn?”

Faith looks down at herself and then over at him. They’re here in the street, everything normal as it gets – and they’re plastered in sand and demon blood. Way to stand out, she thinks. Guess who dropped by from another dimension?

Wesley catches her look, pulling a wry face in return, and then he laughs.

“Yeah,” she says and takes her hand out of her pocket to catch hold of his arm. “You know, so long as the world doesn’t need saving again tonight.”

“Twice in one evening? Surely not.”

“Hey, no tempting fate, okay?”

Behind them the portal’s already gone, and now they walk away together.

“No getting sentimental on me, though,” she says.

“You’re saying that to the guy with the handcuffs in his jacket?”

“Thought you had a good explanation for that.”

“Even so…”

Faith smiles ahead. It could work out, this thing, this time, the two of them. Whatever. They’re going to have an interesting time trying, and there’s no point worrying about the rest. Most of the time, they’ve got enough work to do keeping each other alive. “Hey,” she says, looking across at him. “You’re gonna have to tell me this dull story now, you know that?” 

“Well, I happened to pick them up earlier – when we ran into that police officer –”

“Fell into your pocket, huh?” She elbows him and laughs.

“Something like that…”


End file.
